


One Summer Day

by Cherry_Pye



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Play, Dean/Sam - Freeform, Drugs, F/M, First Time, Longing, M/M, Sam/Dean - Freeform, Slow Build, Smoking, Teen Sam, Wincest - Freeform, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry_Pye/pseuds/Cherry_Pye
Summary: Dean meets some girls and brings Sam along. There’s weed. And touching. And more. And then there’s the aftermath of Dean and Sam working through it together back in their hotel room.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we have the fun tale of how smoking weed ends up bringing years of sexual tension to a climax (pun intended) for the brothers one summer day. 
> 
> Warnings are as follows: sex-stuff while pretty heavily under the influence, underage Sam, heterosexual relations for both brothers
> 
> As usual, of course this is explicit, quite extremely so in chapter two, and by the way I know I still have yet to post the second chapter of Practice Makes Perfect (formatting issues), but soon. And the second chapter of this one is already 90% finished.

The sand was scratchy and hot against Sam’s back as he stared up into the light-blue part of the sky, squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun and tapping his heel to the beat of the song playing too loudly through his headphones.

Dean suddenly loomed over him, shadowing out the light and bending to a crouch with the flash of one of his charming smiles curling the corners of his mouth as he said something that Sam couldn’t hear over the sound of his music.

And he looked like sheer god silhouetted against the sun, too…all bare muscle and jawline and bright eyes that made Sam feel a bit like collapsing at the center as he tugged one earbud out and propped himself up onto his elbows to grin at his big brother in return, his mouth too dry in that way it always was these days whenever Dean was so solidly in his personal space, and of course today he was shirtless too, which was just-

-not even fair.

“Wha-what was that?” Sam finally asked, remembering that Dean was still waiting for him to respond to something, “-I didn’t-, uh, headphones.”

He gestured toward the portable CD player that was resting on his stomach, and Dean chuckled down at him, grabbing the freed earbud and holding it up to listen while Sam protested in mild annoyance.

“Looks like I rubbed off on you, after all, Sammy,” Dean murmured, bobbing his head playfully to Kashmir before tossing the bud back onto Sam’s chest and tousling his hair, “Come on. I met some people. They invited us over for the afternoon, and since Dad won’t be back, I figured why not, right?”

Sam frowned at this unpleasant news, averting his eyes and fumbling aimlessly with the tie on his shorts.

“What people?” he asked, sounding much more sullen than he would have liked and quickly adding, “-I mean, whoever they are…they invited you, not me, so why don’t you just go? I’ll just…walk back to the motel later.”

Dean scoffed loudly at that, rolling his eyes and easing himself down into a cross-legged sit as he glanced over his shoulder to signal something to someone before turning his attention back to Sam.

“Hey, they invited _both_ of us,” he said softly, tacking on another one of his dazzling smiles and pressing the back of his hand to Sam’s heated forehead, “Wouldn’t it be nice to get out of this damn sun somewhere besides the motel room? There’s air conditioning!”

He winked, heaving himself to his feet and reaching for Sam’s hand after brushing the loose sand from the backs of his thighs.

“C’mon. It’ll be fun! You’ll like ‘em.”

*********

  
“You want a toke?” Mandy asked, pulling a loosely-rolled joint from her shorts pocket and giving it a little shake in Dean’s direction.

Dean glanced nervously at Sam, and Sam huffed in real irritation this time, crossing his arms indignantly over his chest.

“Jesus, I’m sixteen, not ten!” he shot back with another roll of his eyes, drawing a tinkling little laugh from one of the other girls on the porch as Dean threw up his arms in defeat and plucked the joint from Mandy’s fingers.

“Christ! Touchy, touchy. I mean, uh, what-, you…want some?”

Sam mulled it over for a few long seconds, finally deciding that saying no might directly clash with his declaration about not being a kid anymore and giving Dean a little nod, shifting his weight in his chair and feeling anxious about it nonetheless even though he knew that Dean had smoked for the first time long before sixteen.

“I’ll help him,” Hannah chimed in, hopping up from her rocker and practically skipping across the porch, “He’s a cutie, huh? Good genes, you two. How old did you say you were again, cutie?”

Sam coughed, resenting nearly everything she had said (nearly), but before he could reply either way, Dean was stepping dauntingly in front of Hannah to bring one of his big hands down to rest pointedly on her shoulder.

“Six-teen,” he said loudly, overemphasizing both syllables and reddening Sam’s face with embarrassment, “-so hands off. Besides, _I’ll_ help him. He’s my brother.”

Sam groaned, palming his face and kicking out at the backs of Dean’s legs with the toe of his sneaker.

“Oh my god!” he protested, half wanting to just disappear and half still focusing on the fact that Hannah, presumably at least an eighteen year old attractive girl, had just called him cute, “Dean! I don’t need anyone’s help. It’s not rocket science, jesus…”

Dean laughed at that, patting down over Hannah’s shoulder to ease any possible tension and giving his head a bemused little shake.

“Suppose you ain’t wrong about that,” he quipped, flicking at his lighter and inhaling a deep drag off the joint before finally breathing it out in Sam’s direction in a few perfect “O”s to the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ of the four girls and privately winking again at Sam as he extended the joint between two fingers and tossed the lighter into Sam’s lap, “-your turn, hurry up though and you won’t have to re-light it.”

“I know how to do it, Dean,” Sam lied through another mild glare, too fuzzy still from Dean’s second ‘just-for-him’ wink in an hour to really care too much about anything else and sucking in a heavy lungful of harsh smoke that he coughed out right away in violent fits and starts, much to Dean’s obvious delight.

“Don’t even _think_ it,” Sam warned ominously as soon as he could breathe again, but Dean just crinkled his face in another low chuckle, grabbing the joint delicately from Sam’s fingers and walking it over to Mandy without a single word of his usual teasing.

As soon as he was back, though, he leaned down slightly, shielding his mouth with the back of one hand and sprawling his shoulder against the wall while the girls passed the joint between them with high-pitched giggles.

“I would’a been pissed anyway if you’d smoked with someone else for the first time,” he murmured, heating up Sam’s blood in his veins and quickening his pulse while Hannah shrieked out a laugh about something on the other side of the porch, “so, yeah, I dunno-”

He trailed off, his gaze landing on Mandy as she sauntered back in their direction, wriggling her hips provocatively with each step in a way that made Sam suddenly want to hit her.

“No secret-telling, boys!” she chimed, sidling in right next to Dean and offering him the joint again while she snaked her arm eagerly around his shoulders, “How you feelin, Sam? Fun, isn’t it?”

She smiled warmly, and he forced himself to smile back, wondering if she could tell anyway how much he hated her but suddenly finding it very difficult to care as a thick, happy, dulling fog crept in around the edges of his mind, brightening all the colors and slowing down his thoughts to an inching crawl that somehow still felt like a lot more than usual happening inside his head.

Well…this was going to be an…interesting afternoon.

Fuck.

************

  
“What’cha lookin’ at?”

Sam startled from his reverie, glancing up from his spot on the couch to lock eyes with Dean, who was so close… _so_ close.

When had he gotten that close?

“Wha-, I, nothing…the, uh, the-nothing,” Sam stammered, giving his head a little shake and trying to keep his stare in an appropriate place as it kept trying unrelentingly to pull down to Dean’s mouth.

Dean just grinned brightly, sliding in swiftly next to Sam on the couch so thoroughly that their legs were pressed flush together from calf to thigh, his arm looping around Sam’s shoulders and his foot actually twining over Sam’s at the ankle the way he used to back when they were both kids.

Sam wondered if Dean even realized he had done it.

“You’re totally hammered, huh?” Dean teased, nudging with his hip and catching Sam’s breath alarmingly in his throat as he desperately tried to remember any tiny segment of the English language.

Settling for just a weak nod and a laugh, he mentally willed his pulse to stabilize, suddenly terrified that certain…parts…of him might get carried away in his current inebriated state and hastily grabbing for a throw pillow to shove unceremoniously over his lap-

Dean raised his eyebrows sky-high.

Goddammit.

Sam hadn’t even considered what covering his crotch with a pillow would imply.

Fucking weed…

“I-I, was, I…was-”

He broke off, panicked, his thoughts freezing uselessly in place until Dean finally offered up a slow and tentative “the…girls?” lowering his voice to a whisper and fixing Sam with a penetrating stare that Sam would have to interpret later, because right now a response was needed in order to save this moment from rapidly spiraling out of control again.

He tried to laugh again, swallowing heavily and clearing his dry, staticky throat a few too many times in a row before finally mumbling “mhm, uh-huh” while Dean just…watched him in a way that felt much, _much_ more intense than usual.

Was it, though?

Damn it.

He was too high to even keep the question in his head, let alone answer it.

“One…in particular?” Dean pressed, swiftly glancing around the room before honing back in on Sam again, his fingers playing lightly with the sleeve of Sam’s t-shirt in a way that was drawing all of Sam’s nerves together into a tight, concentrated bundle directly underneath the touch.

As if on cue, Hannah chose that moment of all moments to pad over to them across the room with Mandy linked to her elbow, and Sam was certain that Dean would ease away from him, that he’d put at least a small crack of space between their bodies, but…but he didn’t.

Smiling casually up at the girls and then back down at Sam, he simply gestured for them to sit, leaning back into the cushion behind him and continuing to hypnotically twirl the fabric of Sam’s shirt, his fingertips actually pushing beneath the cotton after a few more seconds to brush against the bare skin of Sam’s upper arm.

Sam forced air into his lungs, shivering uncontrollably in a way that absolutely could not have gone unnoticed, but Dean just kept up a smooth rhythm of small talk with Mandy, not even missing a beat and blatantly petting at Sam’s skin now while he asked the girls what kind of music they had.

“Sound good, Sammy?” Dean suddenly purred in his direction about…fuck, about something? and Sam, to his horror, couldn’t muster up even a half-assed response this time, just gaping dumbly at Dean like he’d gone deaf (he might as well have) and opening his lips around a nonexistent word, his expression, he knew, somewhere between confused and aroused and superglued to his face no matter how intently he tried to scrub it away.

Dean, amazingly, _still_ didn’t falter, segwaying effortlessly back into an exchange of light words with both girls despite their curious, stolen glances at Sam, which only further cemented in Sam’s mind the fact that he was definitely acting strangely (just in case he’d had any doubt left about that) and Dean not acknowledging it in the slightest was…weird, right?

It was definitely weird.

But what the hell did it _mean_?

“-got the hots for my brother, huh? Guess I can live with that.”

Sam bridled, having at least picked up on that particular snippet of the conversation, and Hannah giggled, actually giggled, turning to wink at him behind Dean’s back and spinning more fog through Sam’s head like numbing, tingling cotton candy while Dean just continued to coo out suggestive little flirts on his behalf.

What was happening?

Before Sam could even get through half of another thought though, Dean was curling around his waist and swiftly hauling him in toward the center of the couch like he did things like that every day, his fingers briefly easing up and under the bottom of Sam’s t-shirt to tickle maddeningly along the base of his spine while he cocked his head pointedly in Hannah’s direction.

“Made you some room over there on the other side of him, babe.”

Sam’s chest constricted around too many confusing neurons firing up all at once in his brain, realizing with certainty now that Dean was setting him up with Hannah…right here, but-…but it made no sense.

It made fucking _negative_ sense.

Because this was Dean, and he wouldn’t…he’d never-

“Hi there, cutie.”

Hannah had squeezed in on his left and was keening toward him now with a hazy-eyed smile while she draped a warm hand over the back of his neck.

“Aren’t you sweet? And don’t worry about feelin’ messed up or anything. Mandy always gets the good stuff.”

She inched even closer while Sam struggled to mentally process this surreal turn of events, a big part of him urging his logical mind to just shut up and go with it but the other part of him needing confirmation and convincing him to turn his head toward Dean again, who was-, who was…god, palming down Mandy’s chest and side-glancing Sam with an expression that instantaneously hardened Sam’s cock, his muscles seizing with the unreal hotness of being pressed right up flush to his brother while he was…while they were-

Jesus.

“Go ahead, Sammy,” Dean murmured, his voice low and rough and like something out of one of Sam’s most interesting fantasies, “-the other two just left, so have a little fun, yeah?”

He licked his lips very slowly, and Sam actually groaned, trying too late to swallow it down and nearly groaning a second time as he watched Dean actually rip open the buttoned front of Mandy’s top in one fluid yank like the goddamned deity of all things sex.

How they had transitioned from Dean doing everything in his power to keep Hannah at bay to…to _this_ , though, was utterly beyond all reason, but Sam stopped even trying to work through it when Hannah moved up against him with a sexy little moan to kiss his neck, pushing him even further into Dean and pricking his arms with goosebumps as another hot pulse of arousal churned through the bottom of his stomach.

“Fuck,” he managed to grit out, pawing at Hannah’s back and bucking the throw pillow from his lap down onto the floor, “fucking-, fuck.”

Hannah was making pretty little sounds at Sam’s sudden responsiveness and was pressing into him from everywhere, sliding her lips up his jawline to finally connect with his mouth and trailing her fingers down his arms while one of her thighs moved to drape across his lap, rubbing against the outline of his cock and dragging a deep, rough sound from his chest that he could barely recognize as his own voice.

Shifting his gaze sideways again while Hannah scrambled even more thoroughly onto his lap, his breath contracted violently in his lungs as he saw that Dean was blatantly watching him over the top of Mandy’s head with heavy, slitted eyes, his mouth tugged into a silent growl that shocked a pulse of raw heat through Sam’s insides as his teeth clenched around a frantic groan that was primal and dirty and utterly beyond his ability to hold back.

Unable to tear his gaze away from his brother’s face, Sam dragged his palms urgently down Hannah’s sides to lift her fully onto his lap, his head nearly exploding with bright, electric stars as Dean actually snaked one hand around the back of his neck to wind tightly through a fistful of his hair and massage against his scalp all without breaking eye contact for even a second-

There was a sudden flurry of noise from upstairs and the distant sound of a man’s sharp voice that Sam could only barely focus on as he continued trying to touch Hannah everywhere all at once with his gaze fixed inextricably on Dean, but Mandy was-, Mandy was…shushing them now and practically leaping from Dean’s lap to grab Hannah by her shoulders and tug her backwards into a stumbling stand off the couch, wordlessly signaling something to them that Sam didn’t understand and following it with a panicked whisper of, “Up! Come on! Shit. It’s my dad, he’s home early. You guys gotta-, quick, this way-”

She jerked her head toward the back door leading up to the porch, scrambling to straighten her top and anxiously adding, “Seriously, Dean! I can’t get in any more trouble, and my dad’ll kick both your asses if he finds you down here.”

Dean just stared for another long moment with his mouth half-open as he presumably struggled to reassemble his brain before finally jumping up to hike Sam to an unsteady stand by the front of his shirt, herding him toward the door with both hands and turning to toss a loopy grin over his shoulder once they’d reached the far side of the room.

“To be continued, ladies,” he called softly, pushing Sam by the small of his back and steering him breathlessly up the stairs and out onto the porch.

“-let’s make a run for it, Sammy. Come on!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath in the motel room (part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, looks like this will end up being two chapters and then an epilogue, because I wrote the perfect “end of a chapter” line and I just could not let it go to waste. Um, hmm...warnings I already did. One more I can think of is that Dean has been having these sexually-centered thoughts about Sam for long enough to perhaps make some people uncomfortable? That fact is very briefly covered right at the end but vaguely. And I suppose that’s it!

Dean collapsed into breathless laughs as soon as they were back in the motel room for about the fourth time since they’d left Mandy’s, palming his thighs and leaning his weight into it while Sam sank onto the foot of the first double bed with an overwhelmed huff.

He was still wildly high and turned on and confused and just-

He snuck another lingering glance at Dean, trying to think clearly…trying to organize and shift through the proper sequence of events as they’d occurred and wading through too much, too many things…too many things to have possibly been real.

“So-so, so….that was-” he started, cutting himself off immediately and wishing that he hadn’t said anything as Dean straightened up to fix him with the same smile Sam had seen his brother use countless times to flirt with girls, which of course only raised Sam’s blood pressure through the roof again in a single second and stabbed his lungs with giddy, nervous little pricks of adrenaline.

“Yeahhh,” Dean breathed out in a low hum, propping himself up against the wall and crossing his arms loosely over his chest as he stared at Sam across the small room, “-hot, huh? You ever…done anything like that before?”

Sam desperately tried to keep his inhales and exhales coming at a normal pace, squeezing his legs together defensively and crossing his hands over his lap…just in case.

“Not…that…exactly,” he managed very quietly, his throat tightening alarmingly and his cheeks flushing red despite his best attempt to muscle back his body’s responses to the mental image of what he and Dean had just done.

Dean chuckled softly, the tip of his tongue gliding very slowly back and forth over his front teeth in a way that was just…fucking impossible not to look at, Sam’s eyes glued to his brother’s mouth for an unknown stretch of time before he finally forced himself to look away, nervously searching out Dean’s gaze again and knowing instantly that he hadn’t gotten away with it.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He was never smoking again.

Dean’s expression had shifted into something more serious, and he moved wordlessly off the wall to walk in Sam’s direction, pausing halfway across the room to hover mid-step for a fraction of a second before continuing with a louder-than-normal exhale to finally ease himself down, heart-stoppingly close again, on the bed next to Sam.

“I figured I was being too…overprotective, I guess, y’know, the whole Hannah thing,” he said with another smile, twining his foot over Sam’s just like he’d done on Mandy’s couch and drawing Sam’s full focus down to the twist of their ankles as he rapidly blinked his eyes like that might somehow steady him against the tangled heap of wants and questions flurrying his stomach.

“Uh,” he floundered, temporarily forgetting what Dean had even said and frantically trying to piece together his thoughts under the heavy influence of Dean’s…god, of Dean’s everything, “-oh-oh yeah, I-, yeah thanks, yeah it was-, was it…I mean was it-”

Jesus, what was he even trying to ask?

But Dean seemed to be puzzling through an internal question of his own for a few long seconds, and before Sam could come up with something to say to break the awkward silence, Dean was suddenly reaching for him, his fingers brushing gently through Sam’s hair and his upper body shuddering just slightly as his lips parted around a possible word that turned into a swallow at the last second.

“You still feelin’ it…the weed?” he finally managed, his eyes slipping to Sam’s mouth in an echo of Sam’s own mishap from just minutes earlier, “-definitely, uh, good…good shit, right?”

Sam knew already that there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be able to respond…not even a little, not with his damn cock twitching its way fully hard again under the too-tight fabric of his shorts and his expression betraying him and melting disastrously into something that would surely, without a doubt, give away the truth about what was going on inside his head.

He couldn’t stop it.

He couldn’t fucking control it.

Fuck, not with Dean _right_ here like this or with the effects of the weed still coating his brain like honey-

Dean’s eyes rolled back halfway in response while he sucked in a noisy breath, but he didn’t seem to realize either thing had even happened until it was already too late, his grip stilling in place where it was tangled through Sam’s hair and his gaze faltering, swaying, slipping downward…lingering for an extended moment in place before gradually trailing upward again to re-connect with Sam’s.

His thigh muscles clenched and unclenched several times in a row against Sam’s, and he cleared his throat softly.

“Hey, uh, it’s…it’s really okay,” he finally offered in an almost-whisper, his voice deep and scratchy and edged with something else entirely as he lifted his other hand to lightly trail back and forth over the dip between Sam’s neck and shoulder, “-you don’t-just…it’s okay.”

Sam’s heart jumped up into his throat even though he had no idea what Dean was getting at specifically, his hands curling anxiously on the bed and his vision blurring a little as he huffed out a panicked cough.

“What’s-what…what?” he stammered through very shallow breaths, his mouth opening and closing a few more times like a goldfish as Dean’s jaw twitched and then tightened, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and his eyes lowering slowly down again to…to-

Sam’s blood turned icy in a single instant, his knees instinctively trying to jerk up and his hands unfolding to push against the mattress for leverage as he scrambled to shove himself backward away from Dean, distantly realizing that he was only confirming the fact that his current…state…was _because_ of Dean but unable to figure out how else to respond or what to do or say-

Dean’s palm came down on his thigh, hard, flattening his leg to the bed again as Sam exhaled a high-pitched sound of surprise.

“Christ, Sammy,” Dean breathed out with a small shake of his head as Sam dared to look up at his brother with wide, nervous, weed-hazy eyes, “I said it’s _okay_ , not-, I don’t know…the exact opposite of that.”

Sam gaped in silent uncertainty, subtly trying to pivot his lap out of Dean’s line of sight before realizing how utterly pointless that was, not to mention the fact that Dean’s grip clearly wasn’t going to allow that-

“-you know, we kinda had to…run off right in the middle there,” Dean continued, his eyes drooping again to Sam’s crotch like he couldn’t help it before darting sideways to focus on a square of the folded plaid blanket next to Sam’s hip, “I…yeah, I get it, jesus…”

He heeled his way even closer by a minuscule amount, and Sam knew that his brother _had_ to realize none of this was about the girls, knew that he must have pieced together the thousand obvious clues pointing to Sam’s feelings by now, but another part of Sam’s brain was finally focusing clearly, for the first time, on the way Dean _himself_ had been acting all afternoon…

On the way he’d been staring, the closeness, the touching that had been extreme and constant even for them, the way Dean had orchestrated the entire situation back at Mandy’s house, the way he’d watched Sam so fucking provocatively…the same way he was watching right now-

Sam bit down hard on his lower lip, his pupils expanding so quickly that he could actually feel the change in his eyes and his cock pulsing painfully under his shorts as his skin tingled all over with wildly-heightened nerves.

He’d forgotten to even look away, to at least try to hide it, fully entangled in the heat of his realizations and breathing in rapid little pants that he couldn’t seem to quiet.

As he finally managed to re-focus his vision, keening dizzily to one side on the bed, he hazily processed the sight of Dean staring at him with undeniable arousal, every single pretense suddenly wiped clean from his expression and replaced by a kind of overwhelmed hunger that clenched his jaw into hard, angled lines, his lip tugged into that same silent growl Sam had glimpsed earlier and his eyes wild and searing and burning-

Sam nearly blacked out with the intensity of it, too high, too unbelievably turned on to doubt or fight the reality of this any more as he collapsed to his back in a heap on the bed with a broken-up gasp of “De-an,” following it with a muffled whimper and bucking his hips slightly out of pure instinct while he bunched his fingers around the fabric of the sheet by his sides.

With a real growl this time, Dean was suddenly on top of him, swinging one leg almost frantically over Sam’s hip to straddle him and immediately connecting their bodies in a greedy, grinding drag that Sam could feel all the way up to his fucking teeth.

Thrashing his head to one side side, Sam clawed bruisingly into Dean’s lower back with searching fingers, jerking up into the electric friction with his entire pelvis and choking on a dazed, pleading beg of swears and partial words as he tried to force the length of his torso even more thoroughly into his brother’s from everywhere with uneven lifts and twists and upward bucks off the mattress.

And Dean was already hiking Sam’s t-shirt up to his collarbone now with constant, shaky murmurs of “shh, fuck, jesus-it’s okay, god-, just, fuck, Sammy, it’s okay, I got’cha,” his pelvis continuing to move in tight, rough downward curls and his thumbs ironing back and forth over Sam’s nipples as soon as he could get to them in a way that felt so fucking mind-meltingly good that Sam wondered if he might _actually_ pass out, his hands clamping around Dean’s hips and his vision briefly whiting-out as he shivered violently through another sob of a cry.

Dean was, god...utterly crazed by it, his chest heaving around gasps and growls that were so fucking hot and so dirty that Sam knew right away he could cum just from listening to them all on their own.

“Dea-” he started, breaking it off into a long, frenzied moan as Dean moved to shove one hand roughly between their crotches, grabbing around the outline of Sam’s cock and grinding down almost brutally with his own hips against his knuckles as Sam seized upward with a backwards slam of his head, dropping both hands to the mattress to lift himself even further and whimpering a breathless pant of “fuck-don’t, please don’t stop” while Dean shuddered reactively, contracting his fingers around Sam’s cock and pinching his eyes tightly shut for a brief moment like he might lose control.

“Sammy,” he finally groaned, his palm pushing hungrily at Sam’s erection and his shoulders twitching, clenching up, curving inward, “god, you-”

He paused, lowering himself chest to chest with Sam and working shaky fingers around the button at the top of Sam’s shorts.

“Just gonna-”

He let the rest of the sentence fade out, not even waiting for Sam’s permission (which Sam would have given and then some) before easily tugging down the small zipper and hastily sitting up again to loop under the fabric of Sam’s shorts and underwear with his fingertips, shimmying his way down Sam’s legs and dragging both articles of clothing with him to finally throw them to the ground in a heap alongside Sam’s socks and sneakers off the foot of the bed.

Freezing in place for a few seconds to stare at Sam’s bare cock, which might have been an unnerving experience if Sam hadn’t been so unbelievably turned on, Dean dragged his top teeth against his bottom teeth in a slow, grating grind like he’d skipped breakfast, lunch, and dinner and Sam was his favorite meal, quietly hissing something that sounded like it might have been “jesus, Sammy” before lowering himself off the bed onto his feet to work down his own pants and boxers.

Sam nearly combusted at the sight of his brother’s cock, which…yeah, he’d seen before, but not like _this_ , fucking god…

It was perfect and swollen and so fucking _big_ and wet with precum at the top, just…god, it was goddamned perfect…

His responding whine struck him as being distinctly girly, but Dean’s eyes lit up with it, his mouth opening around some quiet murmur Sam could only just barely hear and his fist closing around the thick base of his cock to tightly pump once like he couldn’t stand not to before he crawled his way back onto the mattress with a low groan of Sam’s name.

Wedging one of his knees in between Sam’s legs, he tapped with his knuckles on Sam’s lower thigh, murmuring “open” and impatiently using both hands to spread Sam around his body before Sam had even fully processed what his brother had said.

Sam arched upward with his hips through panted whimpers, clawing his fingers urgently into the sheet and suddenly lifting his calves to his brother’s shoulders without even really meaning to, still high and much more uninhibited than he’d apparently realized under the lingering influence of the weed mixed with nearly constant pulses of hot, sticky arousal deep in his stomach.

But before he could lower his legs again, Dean’s hands were jerking upward to clamp tightly around Sam’s ankles, trembling there with shivering little brushes of his thumbs over the tops of Sam’s feet while he turned to stare wordlessly at his own fingers where they were gripping Sam’s skin like he hadn’t meant to do what he’d done, either.

Slowly turning his head back to Sam’s flushed, sweat-damp face again but not unraveling his fingers, he bit down on the tip of his tongue and forced in a deep, strained breath through the clench of his teeth.

“Sammy-” he finally started in a low growl of a voice that had Sam’s eyelids fluttering and his muscles tightening in sporadic little bursts, “-back at…back at Mandy’s, that…that wasn’t the first time I, uh…”

He paused to rock forward so fucking hotly with his pelvis, pressing the curve of his cock into the back of Sam’s thigh and groaning out an echo of “fuck-fuck” as Sam tightened his leg urgently into the push.

“-fuck, god…wasn’t the, wasn’t the first time I imagined…fucking you.”

He drew out the space after ‘imagined’ and let the word ‘fucking’ drip slowly off his tongue with overly enunciated syllables as he held eye contact with Sam, the tiny interaction (tiny by comparison, anyway) somehow the most erotic thing by far that had happened between the two of them and shrinking the air in Sam’s lungs down to nothing as his head buzzed loudly, his cock jerking onto his stomach and his chest aching with how badly he wanted his brother to just do it.

“When-how…I mean when did you-”

His words were slurred with lust, and he couldn’t even finish the sentence, his mouth open around gasping attempts at Dean’s name and his legs flexing in little kicks on his brother’s shoulders while Dean just softly shushed him, tipping to one side to fumble clumsily through the drawer under the bedside table before straightening again to lean his weight firmly forward, bending Sam’s knees almost all the way down to his chest.

“Since, uh, a long time, Sammy…a fucking, god-...since a fucking long, long time.”


End file.
